The Wonder of the Flowers of Aeris Gainsborough
by TheMixMaster
Summary: Here's the deal with Aeris' flowers; they're incredible. They're the only flowers to survive beneath the plate for one. They also atract people in distress like bee's to honey. Including Turks.


The scent of flowers filled the air, like a pleasant perfume just slightly over sprayed. It was a scent unique to the little chapel that I call home. Nowhere else under the plate did flowers grow. It was a fact that I took pride in, and a secret that I did not bother to keep. This place was more than my home, or a holy place, but it was also the place that I claimed to be my sanctuary. When I was anxious or sad, it was here, by my flowers that I took refuge. Yet it was strange… this place, this place filled with flowers, not only seemed to comfort me, but others as well. Every now and again I would come home to find somebody sitting at the edge of my garden of flowers. Sometimes they would be holding their knees to their chests, sometimes they would be sitting Indian style, their eyes red from crying, or sometimes they would just be sitting there with a pensive look on their face. But, when I would come up to them and ask what they were doing, they would always, always say something along the lines of 'I'm scared, and this place comforts me.' I think I know what makes my little chapel so comforting. I think it's the holiness of the place, partnered with the strong aroma and colors of the flowers. I think it makes the place feel like a wellspring of hope, happiness and comfort.

One day, after about a month after Zack had left for Nibelheim and a day after I'd sent my third letter, I found a man sitting at the edge of my flowers. Now I was absolutely positive that I'd never seen this man before, but something about him just seemed all to familiar. Something about the slick black hair tied off into a pony tail and… and the suit. But I shook of the feeling. It was probably nothing. Anyways, I went up to the man, as I usually do when I find strangers sitting by my flower bed, and I asked him what he was doing here. "I'm here," he replied, "because I'm worried." A typical reply.

"Why?" I asked.

"Oh, well," he started, staring hard at a particularly tall flower, "I think something… bad has happened to a friend of mine. And…" he drifted off at the word for some reason, perhaps deciding whether or not to continue.

"And?" I encouraged, honestly curious.

"And…" he started back up, "an… an order I've received, that contradicts a promise I made to that friend…"

"The friend that you think something bad's happened to?"

"Yes." He nodded slowly, still staring at the flower. "That friend."

I sat down by the man. "Whats his name?"

He jumped, startled to see me sitting beside him. He quickly got himself back together, as quickly as he'd lost it. He continued to stare at the flower. "It doesn't matter."

I frowned. "No, it does matter. Tell me. I wanna know, so that I can hope for him."

The man sighed. It wasn't a sigh of exasperation, just a sigh. He stopped staring at the flower and started staring at the ceiling. Or rather, the hole in the ceiling. "No… I don't mean that you knowing his name doesn't matter. I meant that it wouldn't matter if I told you… you already know his name."

I blinked. That was unexpected. "I do? But everybody I know is here under the plate, except…" I gasped, putting my hand to your mouth. "Wait, you aren't talking about-"

A cell phone ringer went off. "Sorry." Said the man. "Just a minute." The man didn't talk to the person at the other end of the line, just listened. A minute or so passed, with me still wondering, and worrying despite being by the flowers, if the person the man was talking about, if the person possibly in trouble was my dear Zack. "Right. Understood." The man hung up. I was to consumed by my own sudden worries to notice the distressed tone in his voice.

"Is it him?" I looked at the man, trying to penetrate his mind to get the answer sooner.

He looked at me, startled at my suddenly tortured tone. "Is what him?"

"That friend… your friend in trouble. Is that person Zack?"

The man stood up. He didn't look at me as he replied. "Yes."

Denial swept threw me. Zack wouldn't… no, Zack couldn't be in trouble. What trouble could he be in? He wasn't… gone, was he? No… no, he wasn't… that. After all, he'd told me to my face that this mission would be a piece of cake.

"So what's his trouble?" I asked. It was my turn to sit staring at my flowers.

"He's missing, along with another person, an infantry man. They disappeared about two weeks ago. There was an… unexpected bit of trouble in Nibelheim, completely unrelated to the mission. I highly doubt he's dead though, so you can put that worry out of your mind." ,He added in, as though reading my mind. "He'll be back one day."

Relief ran in, shoving out all of the denial and worry. _He'll be back one day. _I'd see Zack again, even though he was missing. Yes… that made sense. Zack was a tough guy. He'd get out of whatever trouble he was in.

"Alright." I stood up. I could feel myself smiling. "That's good to hear. But," I said, turning to face the man. "What's order that's messing up that promise that you made to Zack. What was the promise, anyways?"

The man started walking out of the chapel. "That would be confidential. I just suggest that you watch your back for a little while."

"What?" I said, surprised. "Watch my back for who?"

The man stopped at the doorway to turn to look at me. "People like me. Turks." He started walking down the steps leading up to my chapel. "Goodbye, Aeris Gainsborough. I hope, for your best interests and for the sake of the promise Zack had me make, that you never meet up with any of us." He turned to look at me one last time. A sad expression now dominated his face. Then he turned, and before I knew it, he was gone.

I could only guess the possible reasons for me needing to watch for Turks, one of the guesses being not really a guess but a highly possible assumption. But that wasn't the hot topic in my mind at the moment. All I could think of was the next time I would see Zack. For the time being though, I wrote my fourth letter, hoping to receive a reply.


End file.
